Nothing Worth Living For
by potterlockedintheshire
Summary: Dally's point of view from Johnny's death to his own. One-shot. I tried to keep it as canon as possible without using the exact same lines. No pairings intended.


Nothing Worth Living For

Disclaimer: as much as I wish I owned The Outsiders, I do not.

Dally's POV:

I knew as soon as I walked in the room that he was almost gone. It pained me to think that if we had come perhaps even five minutes later than we had, Johnny may have already been dead.

Ponyboy and I rushed to his bedside. "Johnny? Johnnycake?" I whispered, afraid that any minute his slow, rasping breathing might cease.

"Yeah?" he asked, with his eyes still closed.

"We did it. We beat the Socs," I told him, hoping that maybe this would comfort him. I knew he had always hated them, ever since that day, four months ago….He hated them almost as much as I did.

"It's useless….fighting doesn't help…." He seemed to be getting slightly alarmed by the talk of fighting, and that was the last thing I wanted. I looked at Ponyboy, asking him with my eyes to say something to Johnny.

"They're still talking about you in the paper, Johnny. They say you're a hero for rescuing those kids." Apparently, this was the only thing that Pony could think of to say.

_Idiot!_ I would have screamed at him, had Johnny not been right there. _Why'd you have to bring that up? That's the reason he's here! The reason he's dying! If you had listened to me and stayed in the car, Johnny would be fine right now! _

I wish I could have said this, but I'd never tell Pony that and I knew it. Besides, I figured he probably already knew himself.

I hated that the topic had been brought up, but now that it had, I couldn't ignore it. "Yeah, Johnny. We're all proud of you."

Johnny smiled, and although I don't know exactly why, I was just glad to have made him happy. Right now, I only wanted to sit here and talk to him. I knew that the clock was ticking down, but at the moment, it all seemed too surreal to process. I looked at Johnny, and realized that the closest thing that I had to a family was slipping away from me, and I had no power to stop it.

"Ponyboy," Johnny whispered. I was scared by how faint his voice sounded, but I didn't let it show. I had practice hiding my emotions by now, so if either of the kids looked at me, they would not see the sadness that I was trying to keep from overflowing.

"Ponyboy…..stay gold, Ponyboy," Johnny murmured.

I could tell a second after he had stopped talking that he had died. I had seen enough dead bodies in New York to recognize one. Still, I had never imagined when I looked at the still bodies of others that one day, it would be Johnny.

As I stared at his still body, it finally really hit me. Johnny was dead. Completely dead, with absolutely no chance of it being otherwise. He was gone.

I needed Johnny. He couldn't be dead. How could he be dead, when I had talked to him just a minute ago?

_He talked to Ponyboy, and then he died. He's gone._

"Don't be dead, Johnny," I said aloud, although I knew he couldn't hear me. "Please don't be dead."

I was alarmed to feel a hot tear tracing its way down the side of my face. I brushed it away roughly as I turned towards the door. I ran out of the room and down the corridor, walking around corners and down stairs, searching blindly for the exit to the hospital. I didn't know where I was going, but I just wanted to get out of the building where the only person that I had cared about had died.

Finally, I pushed open a door and raced down the steps outside of the hospital. I ran to my car across the street, ignoring the drivers who were honking at me. _They don't matter now. Nothing matters._

I got into the car and drove off as quickly as possible. I had no destination in mind. I drove around the area, trying to calm myself down. I was starting to scare myself. I had never lost control like this before. "_You've never cared about anything besides yourself before" _I thought.

As I drove, I realized that Johnny's last words had made no sense to me. "Stay gold, Ponyboy."

"_Stay gold, Ponyboy," not "Stay gold, Dally." _

Did Pony even knew what that meant? I sure as heck didn't. Still, why was it Ponyboy who he chose to talk to last, and not me? Did he mean for Ponyboy to be the last one he talked to, or did he plan on saying something to me next?

I couldn't do this. I just couldn't. I drove in circles, and nearly crashed 3 times because I wasn't paying any attention to what I was driving. _Who cares if I crash? Johnny died, so why does it matter if anyone else does? That's all that matters. Johnny's dead._

_Johnny's lucky. He doesn't have to deal with his death like I do. _Johnny……lucky….maybe he really was lucky to be dead. _I wish I was, too. _

_I hate you, Johnny! _I thought, suddenly. _Why'd you have to make me care about you and then go and die like that? Well, I can do it too. Maybe I can't make anyone care about me, but I can die too. _

As I thought this, I realized this was the perfect solution. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore, and no one would be upset over my death anyways. It's not like anyone cared about me.

I wanted the gang to see it. I wanted them to believe it, and to know I was really dead. I would have just gone over to the Curtis's house, pulled out a knife, and killed myself then, but I knew if I did someone may stop me. _Not because they care. _I tried to convince myself. _Just 'cause it would look bad for them if they didn't. Don't want the fuzz after them. _

The fuzz. That was my solution. I finally parked my car, and headed for the nearest payphone I could find. I stuck in some change, and dialed a number I had never used before: 911. When asked why I was calling, I disguised my voice as well as I could and said that I had just seen a kid robbing a store. I gave them my location when asked, probably the first time I've ever answered the fuzz straight. Right after hanging up, I called the Curtis's house. _Maybe I should've actually robbed the store and let someone else call the cops,_ I thought as I waited for someone to answer the phone. _No, I can't rely one someone else to call them for me. Other people are unreliable. I gotta do it myself. _

Finally, the phone was picked up. I could tell immediately it was Darry. Good. He would probably be the fastest to get the others to come. "Darry, the fuzz are after me. Can you come meet me at the lot? Bring the gang."

I said everything in a rush, making it sound as though I was really on the run. Sure enough, he bought it. "We'll be there in a minute," was all he said before hanging up.

I stood out in the dark street, which was now only illuminated by the streetlamps on either side. I felt the unloaded heater in my hand, perfect for a bluff. I stood under a streetlight, making sure that the police would be able to see me. They knew me by now. I knew that when they saw the heater, they'd shoot first and ask questions later.

Finally, I heard the sirens about a block or so away. As they rounded the corner, Darry came around from the other side, followed by the rest of the gang. The police were halfway down the street and out of their car by the time they figured out what was happening. I drew the heater and held it facing the police car, knowing that it wouldn't shoot even if I wanted it to. The fuzz didn't know that, though, and I didn't want them to.

It only took a few seconds for the bullet fired by the fuzz to find it's mark: me. Even as I felt the pain in my chest where the bullet had hit, I knew that I had guessed right. They had seen the heater and were shooting to kill, which was exactly what I wanted. I heard two more shots being fired and felt them both almost immediately.

I knew I was going to die, but unlike Johnny, I chose to die. I would be dead on the street soon enough, with a look of triumph on my face. Some people would think it's stupid to feel triumphant about death, but death is the best thing when you have nothing to live for.


End file.
